The Leaf Catcher

The Leaf Catcher





I sat staring out at the desolate playing fields, watching stray pieces of rubbish and leaves tumble their way across the grass. The day was grey and cold, and pretty nonexistent, although the weather was forecast to brighten up over the next couple of days. Autumn was coming to a close, and the dawn of winter was breaking.

I love winter.

I love the harsh, cold, clear air that it holds, and the chill of ice that settles in your bones. I love the contrasting concepts of fire and ice as I sit next to the wood burner, and the festivity and cheeriness of Christmas. I love what winter brings, and what it can make us; I marvel at how humanity can achieve something so simple out of something so complex, so universal.

The teacher's voice was a background noise, a constant clatter amongst my thoughts. I really should have been paying attention but I lacked the motivation - it was almost the end of the day, Friday, and I think everyone was sagging with relief. I was becoming more intolerant with school; more restless. The holidays were visible on the horizon, and I was attempting to contain my excitement and focus on the present, especially with the importance of this school year.

Naturally, I was failing.

I felt the unmistakeable nudge of an elbow in my ribs, and snapped my head around, dispelling all thoughts of comfort instantly and zoning in on the lesson. The teacher, Mrs Maggs, was still talking, although I could see her watching me a little more often than usual, obviously aware of my lack of concentration. As she turned to write something on the board, I leant to my right and looked at Rosie, who was studiously listening.

"Thanks," I whispered, grateful.

"No problem." She answered, just as quietly, flashing me a quick smile before picking up her pen and writing the date. I did the same, taking a deep breath and glancing at the clock.

Only 45 minutes to go.

Rosie sat next to me in quite a few of my lessons, including our current location, History, and although we weren't typically the same character, I'd grown close to her. We didn't talk much outside of lessons, but we always shared a smile in the corridor, and occasionally I'd join her in sports. She was a quiet, watchful person, with curly brown hair and kind eyes, hidden behind a pair of inconspicuous glasses. She was pretty, although I don't think she realised it, and the more I got to know her, the more I liked her. There was something  forgiving about her nature, something unmistakeable humble.

I, on the other hand, was something else. I wasn't vivacious, or unusually loud, but I was certainly more outgoing. I didn't scream my thoughts out loud, but I held my opinions close to heart, and I wasn't afraid to voice them. I was shy with some people, and then confident with others. It all depended on my mood, or who I judged an individual to be, or what I was thinking about. I tended to drip words in sarcasm, especially to my friends, and my volatility deserved a medal.

Go me.

Sighing, I flicked through the text book and set to on my notes. I found History interesting enough, but the work was so tedious, and writing fortuitous essays wasn't my strong point. In fact, I'm not sure I had a strong point. Except maybe being spectacularly clumsy, or exceptionally addicted to books and Lord of the Rings.

Yeh, I'd say they're pretty epic talents, right?

No. No Meg, they're not.

At 3.50 exactly, the shrill ringing of the bell interrupted my work, and I shoved my things into my rucksack, eager to be out of school.

"So just finish off those notes for me please, Girls and Boys, and we'll pick up America next lesson," Mrs Maggs said, swanning back to her desk. She often swanned; gliding around the room with an air of confidence and sophistication us girls could only hope to master.

Damn her sass.

Sliding out of my chair, I bid Rosie a good weekend and donned my rucksack, joining the stream of students in the corridors. Luckily, I'd picked up the stuff I needed for the weekend at lunch, and so I wouldn't have to fight my way through the multitude of people nudging their way up the stairs to their form rooms, where our lockers were. After quickly stopping off at the cloakroom to grab my sketch book and blazer, I headed out of the school gates, exchanging a few short goodbyes with various friends. I wasn't really in the mood for talking; all I wanted to do was collect Tommy and go home.

It was a typical December day out, a little too cold for comfort, but fresh and white. I shrugged on my blazer, grimacing slightly at the crinkles which had appeared in the last few days. I laughed - Mum would not be happy; we'd just had it cleaned.

My school uniform wasn't too bad, considering what other schools put their pupils through. Because I was in sixth form, I got to wear a black skirt, slightly flared and high on the waist but the younger years had to wear grey. A standard white school shirt, and a striped tie according to your house, along with tights or long socks, and bravo - we have our uniform.  Of course, there was a burgundy cardigan or sweater that you wore when it was colder, although I had always opted for the cardy...looking like a box never really did it for me.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me, and I picked up after checking the caller ID.

"Hey Mum," I said, a little breathlessly.

"Hi darling, are you on your way to Tommy yet?" She asked, after murmuring something to someone in the background.

"Yeh, I'm about five minutes away. Why?"

"Oh great, well I'm working late tonight, and I was wondering if you could get some more milk for us? We ran out this morning, and I forgot to put it in Tessa's list to do. Could you pop into Sainsbury's on your way home?"

Tessa was a sort of house keeper for us, seeing as Mum worked so much, although I viewed her more of a friend than anything else. She came over a few times a week to clear up the house and check in on us kids, whilst Mum scribbled furiously at her accountant's desk, trying furtively to scrape any extra money she could to keep the house running. Not that we needed it, but Mum was slightly obsessive when it came to work, and believed that any money she could put away would help in the long run.  Part of me admired her dedication, whilst another part realised with some kind of sad certainty that maybe she was just trying to distract herself from life.

I listened to the sound of paper turning on Mum's end of the phone and swallowed. "Sure thing, Mum. When will you be home?"

I thought I heard her sigh, but I couldn't be sure. "I'm not sure, love, but late. I've got a business meal at 8, and I don't anticipate it being a short one." She paused, and so did the paper. "Is that alright, Meg? It means you'll have to cook supper and put Tommy to bed. I didn't know if you had any plans tonight, but I can phone Tessa..."

I interrupted her quickly, anxious for her not to worry. She had enough of that at her work. "No Mum, it's fine." I paused before crossing the road. "I don't have anything on, and I have a ton of homework to do. It's cool, don't worry."

"Are you sure? Thanks Meggy, I'll..no, no don't write that, Peter, I doubt he'll appreciate it." The sound of paper started up again, and I sighed inaudibly. I missed the mother who always had time for me. "Sorry, darling, I have to go. Lots of love!"

"Bye Mum, have a good..." The phone dial cut off before I could finish.

Sighing yet again, I slid my phone back into my pocket and sped up my pace. The wind had picked up, and it was doing all kinds of wonderful to my hair.

Yay for haystacks.



Tommy's school was fifteen minutes from mine and although I was a fast walker, he was always one of the last to be picked up. Scurrying down the streets with my sketch book clutched to my chest, I contemplated the idea of moving town.

It wasn't that I didn't like it here; it was pleasant enough, with lime trees lining most of the side streets, and a fair few shops to roam with friends, but everything just felt so stale to me. I always felt like there was more to the world, more that I could be experiencing.

More than I could be being.

As Tommy's school came into view, I heard a delighted shriek, followed by a series of high pitched shouts. I recognised Tommy's voice and smiled as he came into view, dodging haphazardly between the benches in his playground and laughing as a young girl chased him.

His fair hair bounced up and down, and his rosy cheeks were filled with a smile so big that it topped any I'd seen that week. He looked at me, and if possible, that grin grew wider. I smiled back, an ache growing in my chest.

"MEG!" He cried delightedly.  I watched as his short legs pumped quickly as he ran towards me and I opened the gate, holding my sketchbook-filled arms wide. He threw himself at me, a little missile of blonde curls and blue eyes, and I caught him, hugging him tightly before setting him down and inspecting him.

"Hey Little One, sorry I'm late. How was your day?"

Tommy beamed up at me. "Really good. I made a new friend. Her name's Minnie." He pointed a grubby finger to where she was perched swinging her legs on the green bench and counting something on her hand.

I looked up smiling, pleased that Tommy had made a new friend, and almost did a double take. In fact, I'm pretty sure my eyes widened to a suitable Bambi state and my mouth parted slightly, the forces of attraction kicking into my adolescent body.

Sitting next to Minnie with his elbows resting on the tops of his seemingly long, widespread legs, was a boy.

Oh yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, a boy.

A very, very beautiful boy.

Of around my age.

Queue heart rate pick up, please.

He was smiling quietly at the girl next to him, watching her and her small hands, but as if he sensed me looking - which is impossible, by the way - he glanced up.

Queue fainting episode please.

Of course, I'm being disgustingly soppy, but even from this distance, his eyes held a kind of power over me. Whether it was because I wanted them to, or because they actually did, I'm not sure; but in that moment, I felt like he was touching me. Not physically, but mentally - psychologically.

As we locked eyes, two things happened simultaneously. Firstly, the boy lifted his head and sat up a little straighter, openly, but almost gently, assessing me. And secondly a dry, delicate leaf settled on top of my sketch book.

I broke eye contact as my cheeks blushed lightly, although I didn't want to, and looked down at the contrasting colours of the crisp, amber leaf and the black book. My mind was racing, and I really wanted to look back up and see if he was still watching me, but I realised that this was important.

This moment was significant, a symbol of something brilliant, but I didn't quite know what.

Let me explain:

I've always chased after leaves as they fall from the sky. They fascinated me when I was younger. I'd gaze out of the window for hours, leaning my chin on my hand and following the spiralling figures as they danced their way to earth. I used to stand in the garden and try to catch them, but I'd never once succeeded. For some reason, not one of those crinkled, brown ballerinas had ever fallen to me.

Until now.

A small smile of wonder tugged at my lips as I touched the leaf, almost hesitantly. It had finally happened; I had finally caught my leaf.

Suddenly, Tommy tugged on my other hand, squealing.

"Look, Meggy! It's my other friend! Come meet him; he's really big and cool!"

I let myself be towed my Tommy, quickly slipping the leaf into my book for later, and then focused on the ground instead of the bench. I knew I'd only gape some more, and make a very big fool out of myself, and I didn't want that.

I really wanted something to go right, but I didn't quite know what that was, and I didn't quite know why.

I just had a really odd feeling that that something was going to be very important, and very wonderful.